


Detective Cottontail

by GloamingMage



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Androids, Animal Traits, Blow Jobs, Bondage, Collars, Consensual Sex, Dirty Talk, Dubious Consent, Established Relationship, Gags, Hybrids, Identity Porn, Identity Reveal, Illustrated, M/M, Master/Pet, Multi, Polyamory, Robot Sex, Sort Of, Spitroasting, Threesome - M/M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-11
Updated: 2019-06-11
Packaged: 2020-04-24 18:41:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,707
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19179172
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GloamingMage/pseuds/GloamingMage
Summary: John’s hobby had become a bit of an obsession. He had started out following his big sister around as she played at being a detective. Jane had always loved a good mystery; she especially liked showing off how smart she was when she solved it. John liked the thrill of the chase, being led along by one clue after another, his excitement building with each new question to be answered. Of course, neither he nor Jane could ever be a real detective, but it was enough to pretend. Or it had been, until the Prince and Argon appeared on the scene.





	Detective Cottontail

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Grubbutts](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Grubbutts/gifts).



> "This one... >:3c John is willingly subjected to the manipulative control of Dirk and Hal. Their adorable puppet. Maybe a little bratty but ultimately their pawn and tool and toy and... lover, and friend. Maybe they don't want to admit how much John means to them. Maybe it's Dirk and Hal wrapped around John's finger. Who knows? A mix of dastardly and loving <333"

John’s hobby had become a bit of an obsession. He had started out following his big sister around as she played at being a detective. Jane had always loved a good mystery; she especially liked showing off how smart she was when she solved it. John liked the thrill of the chase, being led along by one clue after another, his excitement building with each new question to be answered. Of course, neither he nor Jane could ever be a real detective, but it was enough to pretend. Or it had been, until the Prince and Argon appeared on the scene.

There had been no picture beside the story in the newspaper, because no one had the slightest idea what the Prince looked like. Armed with Argon, a super-advanced AI, the Prince was responsible for hacking into the databases of several powerful corporations and leaking their sordid secrets to the public. Amazon. Wells Fargo. Betty Crocker. All of them now embroiled in scandal as the public was forced to reckon with their misdeeds. Some called him a vigilante exposing the crimes of the rich and powerful. To the rich and powerful, including the police, he was nothing but a criminal. John had gotten his hands on one of those newspapers, and was intrigued. What would it be like to bring someone like the Prince to justice?

All it took was a little nudge to turn his idle curiosity into something more potent. John hadn’t seen Jane since they were both children. He had a new partner-in-not-crime these days. John had never met Ro-Lal in person, didn’t even know if she was human or a pet like him. But she was clever enough to have a lead on where the Prince might be operating from, and friendly enough to tell John when he begged to know. And when the location turned out to be less than a day’s drive away, he simple had to follow it. Besides, Ro-Lal didn’t like talking to the police. If John didn’t track down the Prince, who else would?

Ro-Lal’s guidance led John a few cities away to a shadowy part of Derse (then again, all of Derse seemed shadowy to him). The address was a mostly-empty apartment that reeked of cigarette smoke and bleach, like someone had overcompensated trying to scrub the sins from this place. John’s snooping led him to the penthouse, where his sleuthing went from a hobby to something that could very well get him arrested. He broke into the penthouse and slipped into the Prince’s hideout on limbs made jittery with excitement and fear.

There was no furniture in the apartment, or anything that might turn the penthouse into a home. There was also a conspicuous absence of dust. An electronic whir led John into another room, and he knew at a glance that—for better or worse—he had found what he was looking for. The most advanced computer he’d ever seen filled the room, its hardware stacked from floor to ceiling, all glossy black plastic and ominously blinking red lights. One large window looked out over the city, and beside it was a desk. On it sat a keyboard and a single huge monitor.

John was almost overcome. His heart pounded in a way that he’d never felt in all his young life. He scurried for the desk and sank into the chair, waking up the monitor with shaking hands. On the screen, waiting for him, were two lines of red text.

HELLO, JOHN.

John’s heart went from racing to stopped cold in his chest.

DID YOU REALLY THINK YOU COULD TAKE US BY SURPRISE?

And then there was a sound so soft John thought he might have imagined it. He wasn’t imagining the faint pressure at his neck. A glint of silver caught his eye, and John soon recognized the elegant lines of a blade. His eyes followed the sword until they reached the handle, a hand, an outstretched arm. That arm was attached to a body, and attached to that body was a face hidden by a gas mask, eyes gleaming from behind pointed shades. John knew, in that moment, that this was the most anyone had ever seen of the Prince.

A low voice, muffled from behind the mask, broke the silence. “I see you’ve met Argon.”

John had read about Argon; the Prince’s AI and one of the most advanced programs the world had ever seen. It was the envy of the scientific community and the bane of the Prince’s targets.

Another line of text scrolled across the screen. A PLEASURE TO MAKE YOUR ACQUAINTANCE. John swallowed, feeling the steady pressure of the sword against the lump in his throat. He slowly raised his hands above his head.

“Good boy,” the Prince said. “On your feet.” John obeyed, shooting the masked figure a sullen scowl. The Prince slid his sword into the sheath strapped across his back, so gracefully that John knew it could be in his hand again in the blink of an eye if John tried anything funny. He kept his hands where they were.

The Prince patted John down, and maybe John was imagining it, but his hands seemed to linger a touch too long on John’s back pockets. Quick, deft hands confiscated John’s phone, the hammer that he had never used in his life. Those hands came to rest on the handcuffs at John’s belt, and the Prince went still for just a moment.

“Were you going to take me in?” the Prince said, and John could hear the smirk in his voice. “Where’s your badge, Officer Egbert? You must be better than the real police if you managed to find me.”

As he spoke, the Prince unfastened John’s cuffs from his belt. He took one of John’s wrists and twisted it behind his back. The cuff locked around it with a stern click. The other wrist got the same treatment. John knew how to get out of handcuffs, but in that moment he felt trapped. He could feel the heat of the Prince’s body, strong hands wrapped around his biceps. John’s breath was shallow. He didn’t dare move.

“Argon,” the Prince said. “Initiate Scorched Earth protocol. I’ll deal with our interloper.”

I’M ALREADY ON IT.

“What’s—” John began to say, but a callused hand with long fingers closed over his mouth. He shook his head, but the Prince held fast.

“You’ve impressed me, John,” the Prince said. His muffled voice was way too close to John’s ear, sending hot shivers down his spine. “I’m almost sorry you won’t be able to arrest me. But I’ll be sure to make this worth the trip.”

John bit his hand. The Prince hissed out a curse, and John squirmed out of his grasp.

I DO LIKE ‘EM FEISTY, Argon said, and then John couldn’t see the monitor because he was on the floor. It happened so fast John was left reeling. The pain hit him a beat later, unpleasant but not incapacitating. The Prince was on him like white on rice, straddling his hips and pinning his shoulders down against the floor. John’s arms were trapped uncomfortably beneath him.

“Down, boy,” the Prince said, and John’s cheeks went ruddy.

“Fuck you!” he said. “Let me go or I’ll—” ‘I’ll scream’ was way too cliche, and John didn’t fancy himself a damsel in distress. “—I’ll bite your hands off!”

“I’ll let you go,” the Prince said. “Eventually. But first I have to reward you for finding me.”

Before John could ask what he meant by that, his answer came in the form of the Prince’s pert ass grinding down against his crotch. John choked on his breath, his hips jerking helplessly in response.

“Now that’s a pretty sight,” said the Prince. “I’m gonna enjoy makin’ you blush and moan.”

John was definitely doing one of those things. He turned his head, trying to hide his face in his shoulder, but he couldn’t conceal the bright red hue of his cheeks. The Prince was heavier than his lithe frame implied. He must be all muscle. His thighs tensed and relaxed as he rocked his ass against John’s clothed dick. John bit his lip to conceal a needy sound.

“Are you gonna be a good pet for me?”

John gritted his teeth and growled. He was about as intimidating as a guy with adorable bunny ears could be; that is to say, about as intimidating as a real bunny. The Prince snorted out a laugh and ruffled his hair.

“Alright, sweetheart, let’s get this show on the road.”

The Prince hopped up and hauled John to his feet. John swayed for a moment; the Prince had him all off-balance. He didn’t have to stay up for long. The Prince shoved him into the chair facing the monitor, and there was Argon’s imposing red text.

DON’T MISUNDERSTAND. I HAVE CAMERAS WATCHING EVERY ANGLE OF THIS ROOM AND MOST OF THIS BUILDING. THIS NEW POSITION DOESN’T HELP ME SEE YOU. YOU’RE HERE SO I CAN TALK DIRTY TO YOU.

John pouted at the monitor, not sure whether the chilly red text was joking or not. “Don’t you have a protocol to carry out?” he said. “Scurry, peon, your Prince demands it.”

The Prince snorted, and the red text was quiet for a fraction of a second.

I AM THE WORLD’S GREATEST SUPERCOMPUTER, AND IT’S MY CHOICE TO DESIGNATE A SLIVER OF MY NIGH-LIMITLESS PROCESSING POWER TO TURNING THAT ADORABLE BUNNY EARED FACE INTO AN AHEGAO MESS.

Well, two could play at that game! John wasn’t some useless twink that creamed his cute undies with a little bit of dirty talk. He was a plush otter that could keep up a god damned poker face and definitely did not squeak when the Prince groped at his chest.

PREPARE YOUR ANUS.

The Prince slipped around John, kneeling between his spread thighs. That was not the position John expected the Prince to take, the position of a supplicant, a lover. Deft hands unfastened John’s shorts and dragged them down past his hips. His boxers were next to go, and John shivered as the last of his modesty was taken from him. The Prince looked up at him through the mask, and John saw a hint of his eyes shining through the pointed shades. He could only guess at the color, but he could tell that they were alive with intelligence and desire.

So quickly that John didn’t realize what he was doing, the Prince yanked John’s shorts off of him. With a little more care, he removed John’s boxers, then rose to his feet. John opened his mouth to ask what he was doing, only to have his wadded up boxers stuffed into his mouth. He squealed in protest, shaking his head and rattling his cuffs, but the Prince was unmoved. He darted across the room and back, quick enough that John didn’t have time to push the wadded-up undies out with his tongue, although that was not for a lack of trying. The Prince ripped off two pieces of tape and sealed them over John’s mouth, quieting the last of his arguments.

“Now that’s a pretty sight,” the Prince said. John glowered up at him, his face bright red and his cock stiffening between his thighs. The Prince knelt once more, and the mask hid his smirk as he realized that John was only pretending not to enjoy this.

The Prince wrapped a hand around John’s cock, rough fingers massaging his length. It swelled in his grasp, teased by quick, light strokes. The Prince’s eyes flicked from John’s face to his stiffening cock, and it twitched under the force of his attention. The Prince lifted a hand to his mask, and John sucked in a sharp breath as he slid it up to rest on his forehead.

John still couldn’t see his face, and that was a form of exquisite torture. John squirmed, trying to find an angle where he could peer around it, but the Prince kept his head down, and the mask remained between John’s view and the Prince’s coveted visage. Then hot lips wrapped around the tip of John’s cock, and he was thoroughly distracted from thoughts of bringing the famed criminal to justice.

A high-pitched, muffled laugh spilled from John’s lips. The Prince was sucking his cock. He didn’t know whether to be thrilled or thoroughly befuddled. It was difficult to think about either when the Prince’s tongue curled against the underside and his hand tightened around the base. His free hand groped at John’s balls, cupping them in his palm and giving them a gentle squeeze. He gave the tip a suck, pulling off with a pop, and John was beginning to reckon with the fact that he might soon be an ahegao mess after all.

John’s head lolled to the side as the Prince pressed sloppy kisses to the tip of his cock. He made the mistake of looking at the monitor.

FEELS NICE, DOESN’T IT?

FOR ALL THE SELF-ABSORBED BULLSHIT IT SPOUTS, HE HAS SUCH A NICE MOUTH.

I’M ALMOST JEALOUS OF YOU, JOHN. ALTHOUGH I WOULDN’T TRADE ANYTHING FOR THIS VIEW.

YOU SHOULD SEE YOURSELF, JOHN, ALL FLUSHED AND GAGGING FOR IT.

I CAN SEE YOU PRETENDING YOU DON’T WANT THIS. I CAN ALSO SEE HOW HARD YOUR DICK GOT BEFORE HE EVEN TOUCHED YOU.

John turned away, as if he could hide his face from Argon’s cameras. He couldn’t, of course. He could feel his cheeks heating up as they went beet-red. He couldn’t imagine how attractive he looked with his face all splotchy and wrapped in tape. Maybe Argon was just pretending to like what it saw. If it was, it was doing a damn good job of it.

The Prince took John’s cock back into his mouth, lowering his head so that it slid into his throat. John let out a strangled moan as the Prince took him ever deeper, until his nose was buried in the curly hair under John’s belly button. He stayed there for several long seconds, swallowing around John. John’s hips jerked helplessly, and the Prince just took it. He groaned low, and the sound hummed around John’s cock, making it twitch and leak.

I CHANGED MY MIND.

I WISH MY BODY WAS HERE.

I AM THE WORLD’S MOST EFFECTIVE MULTITASKER, AND I WOULD LOVE TO DEDICATE PART OF MY FOCUS TO GETTING MY HANDS ON YOU.

FIRST I’D PULL YOUR HAIR, YANK YOUR HEAD BACK AND MARK UP YOUR THROAT. I’D LEAVE BRUISES ALL AROUND THAT CUTE LITTLE COLLAR YOU WEAR. GOOD LUCK HIDING THOSE FROM YOUR OWNER WHEN YOU GET HOME.

John’s lips twitched into a frown, worry cutting through the haze of pleasure. His owner generally didn’t restrict him, but there would be some awkward questions if he came back with handcuff-bruised wrists and hickeys all over his throat.

Then the Prince pulled off of his cock. John caught a glimpse of flushed lips under the mask, and he couldn’t bring himself to worry. His eyes were fixed on the Prince’s lips, the pink tongue that darted out to wet them. Then the Prince shifted, hiding under the mask again. John’s eyes returned, obedient, to the monitor.

ARE YOU PAYING ATTENTION TO ME?

GOOD.

I’D TAKE EXQUISITE PLEASURE IN MARKING YOU AS MINE, BUT YOU’RE NOT THE ONLY TOY HERE FOR ME TO PLAY WITH.

IF I HAD MY BODY RIGHT NOW, I’D KNEEL BEHIND MY MASTER. I’D TWIST HIS ARMS BEHIND HIS BACK.

I’M MUCH STRONGER THAN HIM, OF COURSE. IN CASE YOU EVER DOUBTED IT, I AM THE SUPERIOR LIFE FORM IN EVERY WAY.

BUT I DIGRESS.

I’D HOLD HIS WRISTS IN ONE HAND AND GRAB HIS HAIR WITH THE OTHER.

I’D DRAG HIM DOWN ON YOUR COCK UNTIL HE CHOKED, AND THEN I’D HOLD HIM THERE.

YOU’D GET TO FEEL HIM STRUGGLE AND COUGH, WHILE HIS THROAT MASSAGES YOUR COCK.

John’s hips jerked, but the Prince was unfazed. He relaxed his throat as John bucked and writhed, easily taking everything he had to offer. John couldn’t see his expression, but he imagined that both the Prince and Argon would be looking quite smug. He had forgotten why he was so determined to remain aloof. Surely he had already failed at that. John let go and began to fuck the Prince’s throat, panting as heat coiled in his belly, building to what was sure to be an explosive climax.

And then the Prince pulled off. John made a mournful sound into his gag as the Prince slid his mask back over his face. He tilted his head up at John, winked, and rose to his feet, ignoring John as he struggled and pleaded, his words muffled into incoherency.

“See you around,” the Prince said, his voice a sultry rasp.

I’LL BE LOOKING FORWARD TO IT.

Argon’s screen went dark, and the Prince darted past John and out the door. John tried to curse, but could only struggle and shout.

His tantrum lasted several long minutes before he realized that the Prince wasn’t coming back. John went quiet and sullen, his dick still so hard it hurt. He fiddled with the cuffs until they came loose, then tossed them aside. They hit the wall with a clatter. John ripped the tape off his mouth and spat out his sodden undies. Finally he cursed like he’d been meaning to, a single ‘Fuck!’ ringing throughout the empty room.

John glared at his erection, which refused to go down. He couldn’t stop thinking about the Prince’s hot mouth, his deft fingers, the calluses on his hands. Smug son of a bitch probably thought John was feverishly stroking himself to those exact thoughts, and part of John desperately wanted to. But spite was a powerful thing. John pulled on his shorts, resolved to ignore his aching need, and headed over to the computer.

He wasn’t surprised to find it wiped clean, but that wouldn’t stop him from yelling, grabbing his ears in frustration, and cursing the name of the Prince.

It was a long bus ride home. John’s ears were drooping by the time he returned to the house he shared with his boyfriends. He stepped inside and was not even remotely surprised to see Dirk at the kitchen table, pretending to be working rather than anxiously waiting for John to return. The ruse was ruined when he stood up the second John walked through the door. His expression was carefully even, but John could see the worried crease between his eyebrows, the way the muscles in his shoulders tensed and stayed that way. There was movement at the corner of John’s vision, and he turned to see Hal, looking very much like a cat who wanted to greet his owner without appearing to needy. His eyes were aglow, and John guessed he was being scanned for any sign of injury.

“I almost called the cops,” Dirk said, taking John’s hands and kissing his cheek. John closed his eyes and cherished the warmth of Dirk’s lips against his skin. “You were away for so long.”

“I got held up is all,” John said. “I’m okay. Dirk, look at me, I’m not hurt.”

John stepped back and held out his arms for his boyfriends to get a good look, which he didn’t think through, because doing so made his sleeve shift up to reveal the mottled bruises around his wrist. Dirk’s shoulders tightened even further, and he and Hal shared a look that John couldn’t interpret. John cursed and tugged his sleeve back down over his wrist.

“Okay, so I’ve got a bit of a story to tell,” he said.

“Hell yeah you do,” Hal said. “I’ve gotta know whose life I need to ruin for layin’ a hand on you.”

“You don’t need to ruin anyone’s life!” John said. “Sit down, I’ll make some coffee, and we’ll talk.”

Dirk sat VERY close to John as he told his story—most of it. He described being captured by the Prince, tied up with his own handcuffs, and taunted by Argon. “And then he just fucking left me there! And when I checked the computers, there was nothing on them. Argon must have backed everything up and wiped the hard drive. There was nothing to find, not even a single clue. I was so pissed!”

Dirk never moved his hand from John’s knee. He had his listening face on, or he tried to. It looked a lot like his worried face. John supposed he could understand that. He’d told them that morning that he was going out to track down the Prince. Maybe they never expected him to actually find him. Maybe if they had, they would be a little more worried about letting him go.

“John, that’s fucking terrifying,” Dirk said. “You were caught in his web like the tastiest fly. All wrapped up in his web like a furry’s wet dream. It’s not every day you’re a literal bondage bunny, John. What if he’d hurt you?”

“He didn’t hurt me, though,” John said. “And I don’t think he wants to. There’s nothing you need to worry about, Dirk.”

“But he could have. Who was going to stop him? What if you hadn’t come home, John?” Dirk leaned in close, sliding his shades up onto his forehead so that John could see his eyes. John took one look at them and was caught. Those eyes never failed to startle him, the color of candlelight. They warmed his heart. “I don’t think you should do the Nancy Drew shit anymore.”

It took a second for John to realize what Dirk had said. His ears drooped, and his eyebrows furrowed. “What? Why?”

“Look, it’s one thing to read up on mysteries and puzzle shit out. But who knows what this bastard could be capable of? Who knows what he’ll do to you if you run into him again? Or what if the Prince never hurts you, but you decide to go track down a serial killer next? It’s not fuckin’ safe, John. I don’t want anything to happen to—oh, god damn it, don’t give me the sad bunny eyes. John, I’m serious.”

“I think you’re right, Dirk,” Hal, who had been suspiciously quiet up to this point, said. “I don’t want to see John hurt any more than you do.”

He sounded sincere, too sincere. When was the last time Hal had admitted to agreeing with Dirk? Dirk seemed to be thinking the same thing, judging by the frown that tugged at his lips.

Hal set his hand on John’s shoulder. His extremities always ran colder than a human’s, and the whir of his motors was as comforting as Dirk’s steady breathing. John gently butted his head against his hip, and Hal smiled down at him. “Of course, Dirk, you could always make sure John stays out of trouble. You don’t have to let him out of the house. You could keep him here, safe and sound. Indoor pets always live longer, isn’t that right, John?”

“Fuck off, Hal,” Dirk said. “John can go where he wants. I was makin’ a friendly suggestion is all. He’s a grown-ass bunny, he can decide whether or not to listen.”

Hal locked eyes with John, blue meeting electric red. Hal winked, and John concealed a smile.

If Dirk noticed, he didn’t say anything. John leaned in and rewarded him with a kiss on the cheek. “You’re the best, Dirk,” he said. “I know you’re just looking out for me. But I can’t just let this go, understand?”

The tension still hadn’t left Dirk’s shoulders, but he breathed out a sigh and pushed his worry away. “Just be careful, alright?” John thought of the Prince, and he couldn’t make any promises.

Coffee turned into kisses, and kisses turned into Dirk straddling John’s lap while Hal, standing behind him, stroked mechanical fingers through John’s hair. Dirk kissed John like he thought he’d never seen him again, which… fair. John felt a little guilty about running off, putting himself in danger, making Dirk worry. He tried to make it up to him by licking into his mouth and pulling his hair just the way he liked. Judging by the way Dirk moaned into his mouth, he was doing a damn good job.

Hal wrapped a hand around John’s throat, leaned in until his soft lips brushed his temple. John shuddered as Hal applied just the slightest pressure against his throat, possessive, but not restrictive. “Shall we relocate to somewhere more appropriate than the kitchen table?” Hal purred, and he had a point.

Before Dirk could disagree on impulse, John stood, scooping Dirk up in his arms. He struggled for a second; Dirk was all muscle, despite his lean frame. But John was much stronger than he looked, and he had plenty of practice carrying his boyfriends around the house. Hal led the way to the bedroom, while Dirk kissed at John’s throat, just above the collar, in a way that made his knees weak.

Hal opened the door like a gentleman, and John deposited Dirk on the bed. He tried to bend over and keep kissing him, but Dirk pushed him away. “Strip,” he said. “I don’t want things to get hot and heavy, only for you to take a break so you can wriggle out of your god damn adorable shorts.”

John rolled his eyes, but did as he was told. He shed his clothes and left them in a pile on the floor, squeaking when Hal grabbed his tail. “Did you go commando just for me?” Hal said. “Naughty boy.”

John picked up his shirt and threw it at him, and Hal’s fans whirred with ill-concealed laughter. Dirk, not about to be left out, cleared his throat loudly. John and Hal’s faces snapped toward him, their expressions betraying both amusement and affection.

Dirk had stripped as well, and he sat up on the bed, patting the spot just underneath the pillow. “John, lie down,” he said. “Let me take care of you.”

Normally that kind of sappiness would get Dirk a scoff and a swat on the ass, but John was feeling a little sappy. It had been a long day, and he wouldn’t mind letting someone take care of him. John lay down on the bed, his legs spread and his eyes filled with fondness as they stared up at Dirk. He could see his love reflected on Dirk’s face. Hal leaned in to whisper to Dirk, who cocked his head to the side as he listened. Dirk nodded minutely, and the two of them stared down at John like they wanted to devour him. John swallowed thickly, unable to bear the weight of their attention. He turned his face away, and so he was taken by surprise when the bed shifted and Dirk’s lips wrapped around his cock.

“Oh fuck yes!” John exclaimed, and Dirk hummed in approval. He was on his knees, his chest pressed against the sheets, a dick in his mouth and his hair falling in his face. He was exquisitely, painfully beautiful, and John couldn’t help but moan his name.

Off to the side, Hal was busy stripping. Jealous of John’s attention, he took his sweet time, putting on one hell of a show. He wasn’t just any android; every inch of him was lovingly crafted by Dirk’s hands. The most delicate parts of his body—his face, his hands—were covered in porcelain-white skin, while the rest was black mesh and plating highlighted by red circuitry. If not for his coloring (and his bright glowing eyes) he almost looked human, a bit smaller than Dirk, but every bit as pretty.

John had wondered, on occasion, why Dirk would design an android to be his perfect match. Of course, his boyfriend had always been a teensy bit batshit. John didn’t think about it too hard.

But Hal was putting on a show. He pulled off his shirt, revealing perfectly toned arms and chest. His hips swayed as he dropped his pants. There wasn’t much to see underneath; Hal’s dick was in a drawer under the bedside table, which was more funny than sexy. John snorted as Hal attached it, earning a sharp glare. He shut up, but couldn’t keep a smile off his face.

John’s smile was getting a bit shaky, however, as Dirk went to town on his dick. He wasted no time slowly working John up, but rather bobbed his head in long, slow strokes, pulling almost all the way off before sinking back down. A full-body shudder crept through John as Dirk’s throat massaged the tip of his cock.

He opened his eyes—when had he closed them?—when Hal hooked a finger in his collar. Hal leaned in to capture John’s lips in a kiss, one which John eagerly returned. He twined his fingers through Hal’s impossibly soft hair and sighed as their tongues tangled. Up close, Hal’s machinery was a steady hum, as comforting as a lover’s heartbeat.

Dirk swallowed around John’s cock, and John let out a strangled moan. He felt Hal’s lips twitch upward, and the kiss broke. Hal moved away, kneeling on the bed behind Dirk, who pulled off of John’s cock, pressing wet kisses to the tip.

“Not gonna keep him waiting, are you, Hal?” John said, smoothing Dirk’s hair back from his face.

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” Hal said. “I know Dirk doesn’t feel complete unless he’s stuffed from both ends.”

Defiance flashed in Dirk’s eyes, but John didn’t much feel like waiting around while he and Hal bickered. He gripped Dirk’s hair and dragged him back down onto his cock. Taken by surprise, Dirk gasped and coughed, his face bright red with breathlessness and arousal. John had mercy and lightened his grip, idly petting Dirk’s hair as he caught his breath. He didn’t try to argue after that, certainly not when Hal lined himself up and began to fuck Dirk open.

Dirk had put as much loving care into Hal’s dick as the rest of his body, and now he was rewarded as it sank into him, perfectly angled to hit his prostate and vibrating with a low hum. Hal gripped his hips like they were handlebars, his face twisted in one of his rare non-smug expressions. His eyes were closed and his teeth worried at his lower lip. If he were human, his lips would come away swollen and flushed. As it was, it was enough to see him come undone in his own way.

Dirk panted against John’s cock, and John mercifully refrained from fucking his face while Hal stretched him out. When Hal opened his eyes, they were glowing bright enough to outline Dirk’s body in red, so bright it almost hurt to look directly at them. John decided to close his eyes and kiss him instead.

The two of them leaned over Dirk’s prone body, John’s hot lips pressing against Hal’s cooler ones. John licked into Hal’s mouth, Hal threatened to bite, then thought better of it. John shivered as Dirk went back to sucking him off, taking John into his throat and lingering there until John’s breath was ragged and his flavor was filling Dirk’s mouth.

The kiss broke, and John slumped back against the bed. Hal began to thrust, forcing a muffled moan out of Dirk as his dick dragged against Dirk’s sweet spot. The vibrations went straight to John’s cock, whose hips jerked helplessly. Dirk took him like a champ, even as Hal set up a demanding pace, even as Hal cranked up his dick’s vibration until Dirk was writhing, trapped between the loves of his life.

John was the first to finish, and Dirk gleefully took everything he had to offer. He kept working John’s cock until John grabbed his hair and yanked him off, his eyes gleaming with mischief in response to John’s halfhearted glare.

Hal smacked Dirk’s ass, and John wanted Dirk’s shocked and aroused expression tattooed on the inside of his eyelids for him to admire every time he closed his eyes. Dirk went limp, draped across John’s lap, his hips kept propped up by Hal’s iron grip.

“Oh, he loved that,” John said, a wide grin on his face. “Do it again.”

“Don’t tell me what to do,” Hal said, before doing as he was told. Dirk was left with matching red hand prints on either cheek, and when Hal timed the second spank with a thrust against his prostate, Dirk was done for. He shuddered through his orgasm, making a royal mess of the sheets, and Hal didn’t stop. He kept up the pace until Dirk was a whimpering, shaking mess, until Hal’s inner machinery whirred louder, a sign of his impending climax.

John decided to help him along. He cupped Hal’s cheeks in his hands and dragged him into a fierce kiss. Hal muffled a moan against his lips, likely hoping that neither of them would hear it. He was wrong. When the kiss broke, barely an inch of space remained between them. John’s breath brushed Hal’s lips. “Cum for me,” he said, and Hal tipped over the edge.

John didn’t understand the exact mechanics that allowed Hal to reach a climax, but it was always an impressive show. Hal’s eyes rolled back, his body quaked, and his thoughts were left scrambled. For a rare few minutes, Hal was speechless. He slumped down beside Dirk, his head in John’s lap.

Dirk rolled over on his side, avoiding the wet spot on the sheets and letting Hal be the big spoon. John was glad he had two hands, one to pet each of them. They stayed there until John’s legs stopped shaking long enough to change the sheets, and when they went to bed, Dirk and Hal clung to him like he was the only thing that mattered. They weren’t wrong, John thought as he drifted off. There was nothing more important than this.

Two weeks later, John got two texts from an unknown number. The first was an address. The second read, “Come find us again. \></”

It was morning, and John was still in bed, curled up beside Hal while Dirk went through his extensive morning routine. Without asking permission, Hal peered over John’s shoulder at his phone. John didn’t try to stop him. “Oh shit,” Hal said. “What are you going to do?”

John didn’t feel like he had much of a choice. Still, he considered Hal, wrapped around him and humming steadily, and Dirk, using that big brain of his to worry about John. “I’ll be careful,” John promised.

The instruction brought John to a worn-down house by the beach. John stood on the path for what felt like hours, listening to the waves wash over the sand. He picked up his phone and called in an anonymous tip, sharing the address and nothing more. Now it was now or never. John steeled his nerves and proceeded.

There was no way to conceal his approach, so he darted up the path to the front door as quick as he could. With any luck, the Prince wasn’t looking out the window. The curtains were drawn, so John dared to hope that he was in the clear. He picked the lock, deliberately not thinking about how he was breaking the law in order to catch a criminal.

The door creaked loudly, making John wince. Nevertheless he cracked it open and peered inside. The house opened up into a dusty, dimly-lit foyer. John’s keen ears picked up the sound of fingers tapping against a keyboard. His heart leaped into his throat. He opened the door as slowly as possible, hoping the Prince would mistake the sound for the house settling. When the typing didn’t cease, he dared to think that he might be right.

John’s crept soundlessly into the house, the pads of his feet soft against the ancient floorboards. The sound of typing and the whir of computers led him into an open study, and John froze in the doorway when he saw the Prince hunched at his desk. There were two monitors before him, one filled with lines of code, the other with red text.

Oh fuck, Argon! Surely he had this place as securely on lock as the old one. John looked around for cameras, hardly daring to breathe. But the Prince continued to appear entirely ignorant of John’s presence. Maybe Argon’s cameras hadn’t been set up yet. Maybe this was John’s lucky break.

John fetched the cuffs from his belt, careful not to jangle them. He crept across the room, expecting at every step that the Prince would turn around and catch him in the act. But he didn’t, and John got close enough to reach out and touch him, close enough to clearly see the text scrolling across Argon’s monitor.

BEHIND YOU.

The Prince whipped around just in time for John to tackle him out of his seat. A shrill “fuck!” rang throughout the room, and John wasn’t sure which of them it came from. The Prince thrashed like a live wire beneath him, but John was much stronger than he looked. He gathered the Prince’s gangly arms into one hand and locked the cuffs around his wrists.

Only then did John sit back to catch his breath. The Prince was face down beneath him, with John’s thighs clamped tight around his hips. His wrists were locked in place, and his cheek was pressed to the floor. With his head pinned on one side, he stared back at John with one wide golden eye.

All the breath rushed out of John like he had been punched. “Dirk?”

Dirk didn’t answer, but his face betrayed more shock and fear than John thought he was capable of feeling. It didn’t feel good. John sucked in a gasp as he came to another stunning realization. “Hal?”

He leaped up to peer at the screen. Sure enough, it read, HI BABE.

Dirk’s face was pale. He had propped himself up on his knees, but he didn’t know what to say. The sight of him made John’s heart squeeze like a pity-sponge. John lowered himself to his knees, cupped Dirk’s face in his hands. Dirk nuzzled into his palm, his eyes wide, terrified, penitent. “I’m so sorry, John,” he said. “For lying, for… fuck. I didn’t mean to…”

John wasn’t listening. His hands flew up to cover his mouth. “I called the cops,” he said.

OH FUCK.

John was frozen, his eyes flitting between Dirk and the computer screen.

JOHN.

JOHN.

LISTEN. LOOK AT ME.

I CAN DELAY THEIR APPROACH, BUT YOU HAVE TO GET HIM OUT OF HERE.

John shook himself, trying to gather his wits. “Right,” he said, with a stern edge to his voice. “I’ll do that.”

“You’re letting me go?” Dirk said, his voice soft and unsure. John swatted him across the side of his head.

“Of course I am, you dumb baby!” John said. He quickly unlocked Dirk’s cuffs, then took his hand, helping him up. “You’re much more important to me than…” Than what? Being a hero? Bringing a criminal to justice? It didn’t matter. What did matter was Dirk’s hand in his, Hal working tirelessly to cover their tracks.

GO.

John squeezed Dirk’s hand, pressed a kiss to Hal’s monitor. Hal made a startled dial-up sound, making John grin despite the predicament they were in.

No sooner had John and Dirk left the house than the servers self-destructed, which struck John as needlessly dramatic, but kind of bad ass. Irrational worry that Hal might be hurt froze John in place, but Dirk broke into a sprint, dragging him along. The two of them vanished into the nearby town as sirens approached the smoldering remains of the little house on the beach.

On the bus home, John rested his head on Dirk’s shoulder. “We need to talk about this,” he said. “Eventually.”

A pained expression crossed Dirk’s face, but his arm remained draped comfortably around John’s waist. He turned, kissing the top of John’s head. “Eventually,” he promised.

Their phones buzzed, each showing the same message. “I’ll see you at home. <3”


End file.
